


Barb's November

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, barb and nancy!!! the bbabes!!, i tagged it as major character death but its not Major..... just at the end... you'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: She’d known since she was a little girl, looking around at the others and thinking that calling her friends princesses and kissing their cheeks couldn’t possibly be wrong, only to be slapped on the wrist for it a year later. She’d known since she was a third grader, sitting on the sidelines of a dance recital her sister was in and finding herself lost in a dancer’s eyes, and she’d known since the first time she’d changed in front of Stephi Danvers in seventh grade and felt a shiver go down her spine at the sight of Stephi in her maidenform bralette. She knew she was a queer. She knew, and she hated that she didn’t hate it and she loved that she had this thing. She loved the way girls made her feel. She loved the way Nancy made her feel.She let out a sigh, and walked a little faster.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!!! This is the longest fic I've ever written and guess what, it's femslash!!!!! What a surprise.... Enjoy babes :3c

It was a rainy September, 1980 was. 

Well, not rainy exactly. Rainy was too a strong word. Dreary was better fitting; no sun for days on end; splatterings of storms every other few. The streets were muted and grey. In short, September was nothing special. 

And then came November.

Ah, November, in all of its majesty, blooming in reds and oranges and yellows. So many colors in only three weeks! The onset of rain of the previous months were washed away, replaced with a dry and crisp cold that nipped at the nose, but seemed unable to touch the vivid and saturated trees. They colored the world around them so loudly, they were popart. 

Nancy was Barb’s November. 

She came in briskly to their first period, whisking in like the winds outside and plopping her belongings down next to Barbara Holland. She was a transfer; only just in, brought to Hawkins on a breeze of fate. 

She was a pretty girl, Barb noted. Even at thirteen she was pretty. And smart, too, if her quietness was anything to go by. She seemed likely as not to be nervous, but nothing but one tapping index finger showed it. _Don’t let them see you down, Barbie girl_ , Barb heard her father say. _Never show them anything but your brave face._

“Uh-” Barb started dumbly, looking at this new girl in an uncomfortable awe. “Um...”

The girl looked at her, her ponytail swishing slightly. “Hey!” She smiled, and Barb attempted to reciprocate.

“Yes.” She nodded, before jumping a little and completing her thought, “I mean. Yes. Hi.”

“Uh… huh.” The girl cocked her head, pursing her lips a little. She didn’t seem impressed. 

Barb chewed on her tongue, cursing her lack of eloquence. What was she supposed to say? She surveyed her again. Long hair, plaited down her back simply. Nice clothes (expensive clothes). No braces or glasses, and…“I like your necklace,” she said, a tad too loudly. 

“Oh! Thanks.” This girl touched her ballet slipper pendant, looking at Barb closely. “And I like your… Glasses.”

Barb pushed her white frames up her nose. “Thanks.”

“I’m Nancy. Wheeler.”

“Barbara Holland. Barb. Please don’t ever call me Barbra.”

Nancy smiled again. “Nice to meet you, _Barb_ Holland. Do you have an eraser I can borrow?” 

And that, as I’m sure you can guess, was the start. A first. The beginning, the opening act, the… First. November first, in fact.

July, Hawkins, Indiana, 1980

Barb’s life from then ’till July seemed one long November, biting and pleasantly new, the rebirth before a rebirth. One long November of Nancy, funny and surprisingly awkward, the best thing to happen to thirteen year old Barbara Holland. And then—

“I swear, Jessica’s like, _obsessed_ with Maria. She can’t leave her alone, she complains about it during softball.”

“Oh, yeah?” Barb didn’t look up from her math. 

“Yeah,” Nancy reclined on her pillows, tacking on, “she’s probably a dyke or something.”

Barb stiffened up. “She’s what?”

“A dyke. What’s that look, Barb?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” Barb didn’t mean to sound defensive, but here she was, completely and totally on edge. “I don’t…”

“Like that sort of thing? Trust me, neither do I.” Nancy flipped over, looking at Barb in the eye, feet in the air. “Honestly, can you even imagine liking that? I mean, people can do what they want, but it’s just… weird.” She gave a shudder. 

Barb chewed her lips again. What was she to say? ‘Yeah, neither do I, I mean, who even likes girls anyway? Who wants to touch a girl’s hair or hold her cheek or feel the lines on her back?’. Or maybe, ‘Yeah, Nancy, I agree, those people are weird. We’re very strange, all right.’ No. “Well, I mean… It’s not really our business.”

“I know that. Obviously I’d never say it to her face, but seriously, no regular person could like girls like that if they aren’t a guy. How would it even—”

“I have to go.” Barb got up quickly, packing at the same speed. “I have to be home for dinner.”

“It’s only four in the afternoon,” Nancy said confusedly. “What’s wrong? Barb, are you mad at me?”

Barb sighed. “No, Nancy. Are you mad at _me_?”

“No!”

“Good.” The two girls stood there, looking at each other, one with her bag on her back, staring in humiliation at her Keds, and one of the bed, looking up at her. “See you tomorrow, Nancy.”

“No, Barb, I—” The door clicked shut. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Nancy sighed, her breath fluttering Barb’s discarded homework.

She’d give it back to her tomorrow. 

Barb walked home in brusque stiffness, her breath catching in her throat as she thought of Nancy’s disgusted voice when she said… that word. The flippancy. To Barb, it seemed to be the worst thing she could imagine. The hurt of the word, the effect it had on the redhead, wasn’t lost. She knew. She understood what it meant.

She’d known since she was a little girl, looking around at the others and thinking that calling her friends princesses and kissing their cheeks couldn’t possibly be wrong, only to be slapped on the wrist for it a year later. She’d known since she was a third grader, sitting on the sidelines of a dance recital her sister was in and finding herself lost in a dancer’s eyes, and she’d known since the first time she’d changed in front of Stephi Danvers in seventh grade and felt a shiver go down her spine at the sight of Stephi in her maidenform bralette. She knew she was a queer. She knew, and she hated that she didn’t hate it and she loved that she had this thing. She loved the way girls made her feel. She loved the way Nancy made her feel.

Nancy. Did she know how she dug at Barb’s conscience with that word? Dyke, that filthydirty word that meant long armpit hair and motorcycle vests and short eyelashes and ugliness? Did it occur to her? Did it make her guilty? She didn’t suppose it did. Maybe she didn’t notice. Maybe she didn’t care. Barb wouldn’t doubt that for a minute.

She let out a sigh, and walked a little faster.

\--

A knock at the door. 

Ultimately, a knock at the door started it. A ring of the bell would have sufficed, but Nancy had always been more personal. 

“Hello?” Barb opened the door, hair still half-bedhead, just bushy-tailed enough to be presentable. “Oh, hey, Nancy.” Her voice fell flat as a pancake, no matter how hard she tried to make it happy. 

“Hey.” Nancy held out the papers in her hands, filled with Barb’s looped script, and hitched her backpack up. “Brought you this.”

“Cool.” The redhead took the pages, running inside and pawing at her hair before coming back out with her messenger bag. “Let’s go.”

The two walked in silence for a time, heading down the main road, before Nancy finally spoke. 

“Are you really not mad at me?”

 

“Nancy…” Barb let out an exasperated sigh. “Nancy, you get that words mean stuff, right?”

“No duh. I’m not a baby,” Nancy snorted, twisting her bracelets and kicking at the asphalt. “Why?”

“Well, maybe I don’t like… dyke.” Barb knew she said it too quietly, but she didn’t care. 

“Don’t like huh?” Nancy cocked her head. 

“It’s nothing, all right?”

“Barb, you can tell me if you don’t like something. We’re friends.”

She let out a sigh. “God, fine! I don’t like dyke, all right? It’s… I don’t like it.”

“Why?” Nancy’s curious nature was already taking hold, and Barb could sense she wasn’t getting away. “Barb, _why_ do you care?”

Was it really that much of an impossibility in this stupid town? “I dunno, I just…” Barb scuffed the toe of her sneaker across the pavement.

“Oh.” That word. _Oh_. Was it good? Was it bad? What did Nancy think? What would she do? Nancy was a good girl, a lovely girl, a pretty girl, she wouldn’t talk to a filthydirty dyke anymore if she knew about it. She didn’t need to. 

Barb felt her stomach turn upside down at Nancy’s tone. “A-yup.” 

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you do the homework?” She had.

And so life went on, crisp and clear, the dyke and the prettygirl. Down the street, trip trip trip. Whatever would come next didn’t need to happen for a long while, they both thought. There was summer and on for that. 

Well, nothing went on that summer. Because nothing happens in the summer after seventh grade, historically. Nothing went on in eighth grade, either, because of tests and high school and because this isn’t a movie. Eighth grade isn’t anything special. 

Nothing happens in eighth grade.

Summer, Hawkins, Indiana, 1982

And then where was summer. The summer before ninth grade, no less. A pivotal summer. A time for remaking yourself for the next four years. 

Nancy Wheeler and Barb Holland, contrary to their actions, had no intentions of that. They both liked themselves well enough, thanks very much, and their demeanors were already fit of high schoolers; smart, driven, and with a touch of naivety, despite what they’d tell you. So, instead of reconfiguring their studying habits or trying to remake their outlook on schoolwork in summer school, they mapped the town with their feet. They walked anywhere and everywhere, not leaving any place they hadn't explored. They made make believe as if they weren't almost fifteen, as princesses and knights and forest creatures, for a small amount of nostalgia- although they stopped completely when Mike and his newfound friends found out and just about split a seam laughing at them. That had put a damper on it, all right. 

They exchanged the games of pretend for hours spent in Nancy’s room, since she had the nicer house. The Wheelers were well off, their house nicely put together, full of crisp wallpapers and minted pictures. Barb wasn’t poor, by any means, but she wouldn't dream of spending what Nancy did on clothing.

So, they stayed in Nancy’s room. They stayed and sang and laughed, crying over movies and screaming in delight at commercials with celebrities they liked. And some other things.

It had all started when they’d gotten home from the pool, dripping wet and smelling of chlorine. The walk was long and hot, nearly drying Barb’s hair as soon as it became sweaty again. Nancy’s long, thick hair stayed wet no matter how hard she squeezed her towel. They’d both sighed when they opened the door to Nancy’s room, the air conditioner blasting cool air onto their sweltering bodies. 

“Oh, that’s good,” Nancy sighed, arching her back and flopping face first onto her bed. “Cool air, at last.”

“Yep,” Barb breathed, peeling her swimsuit off and quickly slipping into a Journey t-shirt and her shorts. She sat next to Nancy as she flipped over, shimmying out of her swimsuit top. 

Nancy’s swimsuit top was heavily padded, to say the least. She hated how late she was to puberty, especially compared to Barb, and she loathed wearing anything less than a bombshell bra. So, she was being a typical teenage girl. But, in an atypical move for Nancy, she’d forgotten to completely dry the pads out in the cups. And so, as she slipped it off over her head, the lukewarm water of the pool ran through her fingers as she struggled to remove the wet fabric. 

“Damn,” she managed, the water running into her mouth and making her splutter. “Shit!” Barb was laughing as hard as she could manage in her giddy exhaustion, and she looped her own one piece onto her foot and slung it at Nancy. Nancy, in turn, threw the sopping bikini top at the redhead, laughing along with her now. The game quickly turned into picking Nancy’s room up, both of them going around the room and chucking things into Nancy’s laundry bin. Sooner than a vinyl track could end, they’d finished, and snapped off the air conditioner as Mrs. Wheeler had yelled up for them to do. 

The humidity and darkness quickly settling, both girls finished getting their pajamas on and flicked on the light. They sat on the bed simultaneously, the water mattress bouncing and sloshing. 

“You hungry?” Nancy said quietly, turning their records down and laying down.

Barb shook her head. “Not really. You?”

“Nah.” She patted the bed beside her, and Barb laid down quickly. “You hot?”

Barb could feel Nancy’s warm breath ghosting her hair, and shivered at the feeling. “Not enough to care.”

“Rad.” Nancy smiled in the dim light, before reaching over the taller girl and snapping the light off. “Night, Barb.”

“Night, Nancy.”

They were silent for a few moments, before Nancy turned to Barb and said, “So... have you ever—um…”

“Ever… what?”

“Ever kissed a… girl,” Nancy managed, looking away, a spot of flush rubbed firmly into her cheeks.

“A girl?” She hadn’t, of course; she’d never even been close enough to brush fingertips with any girl besides Nancy. She’d kissed plenty of boys on the cheek in dares. But none on the mouth.

Barb suddenly found herself wondering what it was like to kiss Nance; if it was fast, or slow, or somber; if she was good or bad or sloppy… Where she put her hands and tongue and how her eyelashes brushed against her cheek—his cheek, Barb corrected herself, because someone such as Nancy couldn’t like girls. Wouldn’t like girls. It just didn’t add up that a girl such as Nancy would be like her in any way. Downright unheard of. Because good girls weren’t punished like Barb was.

“Yeah, sure,” Barb heard herself reply. She cringed at the statement. What if that was worse? What if saying you’re experienced was two times as bad?

Nancy looked up, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Wait, really?”

Barb nodded apprehensively. “For—for sure!”

“How was it?” Nancy blurted out, sitting up a little and propping up on her chin. She was a little broody; she was, of course, jealous that her best friend had kissed someone before she had. 

“It was…” Her mind raced. What was kissing? “It was good.” She kept her voice light, and Nancy huffed. “What?” She smirked slightly, her lip quirking up. “You jealous?”

“Duh, no,” Nancy said defensively. “Who cares about that stuff anyways?”

“I don’t,” Barb assured. “It just… Happened.”

“Good.”

“Fine!”

They sat in silence for a moment before Nancy ventured slowly, “So…” 

“So?”

“So what happened?”

Barb snorted. “What, like, you want me to show you?”

“Well, sure!”

The redhead looked up in surprise. “For real, Nance?”

“For real, Barbie.” Nancy said it in fake solemnity, before breaking down in giggles. Barb looked down at her fondly, before joining in.

“Okay, okay,” she said, sobering up and sitting on her haunches. She considered Nancy for a moment, small and slim, before trying to imagine into existence the perfect kiss. Because, unbeknownst to Nancy, Barb was lying through her teeth in an unbelievably easy fashion. “So. I kinda… sat with her on my lap…” She sat up slowly, Nancy sliding onto her lap. Their cold thighs touched and they jolted, giggling from their shared reaction. 

“Why was she sitting on your lap?” Fuck. A fair question. 

“She was… We were… Because,” Barb finished dumbly, bracing her arms behind her shorter friend as she sat facing her, in Barb’s crisscrossed legs. 

“Ah...hah.”

“Shut up!” Barb said teasingly, wrinkling her nose disparagingly at Nancy and giggling, before both’s laughter ceased and they stared at each other intensely. 

“What…” Nancy swallowed. “What now?”

Another fair question. Barb began to think, trying to remember how she’d seen people on the television kiss. Tongue…? No. They weren’t old enough for that. And it would only be quick, like any other lesson taught by a friend. “So I just… put my hands through her hair.” Barb relished saying ‘her’. Absolutely treasured it. No lying there. “And then… You know. Kissed.” 

“Okay.” Nancy sounded breathless, and she looked it too. As Barb nestled her hands in her long, brown hair, she seemed to press into the touch. Her eyes met the redhead’s, and she smiled for a fleeting moment, before setting her face in a serious expression that made Barb’s heart flutter. “Well, come on? You chicken?” 

“I’m no chicken,” Barb muttered, and to prove it, she leaned in, and pressed a kiss onto Nancy Wheeler’s lips. And not just a small kiss, oh no, Nancy made sure of that; Nancy drew Barb closer, fingers threading through her short hair and pushing their noses together uncomfortably. They separated fairly quickly, not being accustomed to the taste of another’s mouth, and laughed breathily in unison. 

Nancy smiled bashfully, tucking her hair back and looking away. 

“Cool.” Nancy tried to sound nonchalant and failed miserably, too entranced in the feeling of Barb’s mouth on hers to be calm. 

“Okay.” 

They looked at eachother for a moment, mutual understanding in the air, before Nancy said a tad too loudly, “Night, Barb!” and shut off the light again.

Barb’s head swirled, full of thoughts and realizations, her entire body full of static. She had kissed _Nancy Wheeler_. And, cliche as it was to say… Nancy Wheeler had kissed her back? Her lips had been soft and sweet, tasting of salt and chlorine from the pool and her mother's fruit bake. She smiled in the darkness, all too aware that she just kissed her best friend, and turned over, away from Nancy. She fell asleep with a grin on her lips. 

Hawkins, Indiana, circa 1982

That wasn’t the end, oh no—because once Nancy saw something she liked, she would bust her ass off to get it. 

And she definitely liked the feeling of kissing Barbara Holland. 

She started off small, occasionally kissing Barb on the cheek as a way to test the waters, before slowly moving into touching. Nancy had never been much for PDA—she detested hugs from family, and rarely received them anyway. But with her friend, she slowly warmed up to them, hugging Barb from behind as they walked, or putting an arm around her waist. They were friendly, inconspicuous, but meant more to both of them than they ever showed. 

She’d never kissed anyone before Barb, either. Did that make Barb special? She supposed it might. And that’s what she told herself—she loved Barb like a friend, but she could never love Barb any other way. She was great, sure, and pretty, but Nancy just didn’t like girls. No matter how much she thought she did. She couldn’t. Because she had someone else, as well. 

A boy. His name was Steve Harrington, and he was one of the best things to happen to Nancy. He was suave, and smart enough—sufficient to hold a conversation, at least. He was witty and he was cute and he liked Nancy back. She appreciated Steve in the way one appreciated a celebrity—except for she could touch Steve, and see him. She loved both of those things about him. She never found herself wanting with Steve, he always knew exactly how to cheer her up or push her buttons. She liked Steve.

She _loved_ Steve. 

And that’s where the problem lay, didn’t it? She loved Steve, a boy, no question, so how could she love a girl the same way? No way. 

But she did love how Barb made her feel. She might even know Nancy better than Steve knew Nancy—hell, more than Nancy knew Nancy. She knew how to push Nancy’s buttons in a different way. She could have Nancy with her hair messy in seconds flat, a mess of wants and needs and desires laid out in front of her. She exposed herself to Barb in a way she didn’t with Steve; with him, Nancy never asked, because she didn’t need to- he was experienced and knew how to make do. With Barb, Nancy felt in control. She knew how to ask and what to say, and Barb, eager to please Barb, would comply. She felt safe and warm with her. Not that she didn’t with Steve- it was just… different with Barb. Friendly. 

Because that was what they were, yes. Friends. There was no doubt about that. Nancy and Barb loved and protected each other fiercely; they were the best of playmates as children, and still were to that day. 

But Nancy never longed for anything more with Barb—she liked what they had, did they need anything more? Couldn’t they kiss in the bathrooms and keep friends elsewhere? Nancy loved Barb—she did. But she didn’t love her the same way as she did Steve. There were no problems with Nancy. She liked boys. Barb was an exception to the rule, and even then it was different.

Barb, on the other hand, was completely gone. She was absolutely, without a question, in love with Nancy. Everything about her. Her manner of speaking, her personality, everything. And she did want more. She wanted a life. She wanted confirmation. She wanted affection given to her in public the way Steve gave it. 

Barb didn’t ever hate Steve. Far from it, actually. She was jealous of him, sure, and he was annoying as all get out, but she was fine with him. She only wished she could put a hand on Nancy’s back, or an arm around her waist, or a hand through her hair.

Her only problem was how Steve stole her girl away from her. Barb wanted Nancy, needed Nancy, deserved Nancy. Barb treated Nancy as if she was her air, preserving those moments in her mind to keep for the times Nancy was… elsewhere. Elsewhere usually being with Steve Harrington. Ah, yes, because Steve was a boy. He knew all about girls and how to please them, didn’t he? Better than Barb, only a girl herself. Indubitably. 

Barb tried her damndest to keep her jealousy in check—she wanted happiness for Nancy. She always wanted that. She just wished the happiness Nancy had was with her. But she never got in the way. She never once tried to come between Steve and Nancy. She criticized Nancy’s less educated choices, but she never deliberately or physically stopped her. She was, after all, still Nancy’s best friend, and Nancy was sometimes impulsive. 

 

Hawkins, Indiana, November, 1983

And so, when Nancy had come into her room after school one day with a big dopey smile, she steeled herself for the worst. 

“Hey, Nance, what’s up?” Barb looked up from her place at her desk. 

Nancy sat down on the bed, flopping backwards with a sigh. “Oh, nothing… say, can you drive me to Steve’s tonight?” 

Barb sighed. “I mean…” 

“Come on, Barb! You’ll be done with homework in no time! Please?” 

“Who’s going to be there?” 

“Oh, the bunch. Carol, Tommy H…” 

“The Scumbag Club, you mean?” 

Nancy threw a pillow at Barb. “Shut up. They’re not as bad as you make them out to be!” 

“I don’t know, Nance…” 

“Barb, _please_!” Nancy moaned, pulling at her face and laying backwards again. “You can stay in the car, even! I just need a ride to and from there!” That made Barb slightly angry; was that all she was to Nancy? Some chauffeur?

“Nancy, I really don’t think you should be hanging around them,” Barb tried, dragging her hand through her short hair nervously. “They’re not exactly great kids.” 

“They’re okay!” Nancy replied definitively, moving closer and closer to Barb until she was behind her and putting her chin on the sharp of her shoulder. “Barb, come on. I can make it worth your while.” She purred this, slowly dragging her lips to Barb’s cheek and kissing a line down her cheekbone. Barb shivered, glasses slowly but surely slipping down her face, and let Nancy have her way. Nancy smiled into Barb’s cheek, swiveling her chair so that she was facing the brunette. She captured Barb’s attention with a soft peck of the lips, putting her hands behind Barb’s back and kissing deeper. 

Barb let her stay close for a moment longer, before pulling away. They’d have more time later. 

Right? 

“Nancy…” Barb sighed. “Nance, I really think we should talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Nancy looked irritated. She needed her fix. “Barb, come on, we gotta get going at six thirty.” 

“No, Nancy, we’re talking about this!” Barb tugged at her hair. “You know I’m gay. I know you’re not. You’re in love with Steve, sure as shit. Why do you _do_ this to me?” 

Nancy blinked. “I like you. You like me. What, do you not like me doing this with you?” 

“No shit I like it, Nance, but do you?” 

“Yeah!” Nancy said with indignancy. “I definitely like it! But hurry if you wanna get your homework done, we gotta go soon.” She made a move to kiss Barb, but she moved to avoid her, much to Nancy’s dismay.

“Nancy.” 

“What, Barb?” Nancy sounded exasperated. 

“You’re. In love. _With Steve._ ” Barb’s voice broke, and she felt the dams break as reality came crashing down. 

Nancy was in her first love, and it wasn’t with her. She’d never be the first, or even the second. Barb was never going to make that list. Was she too overbearing? Too ugly? Too fat, too tall, too…. Girly? Too herself? She wouldn’t change for anyone, that she knew, but she’d consider it for Nancy. But it didn’t matter, now. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, and she slumped in her chair. 

“You’re in love with him, and you’re asking me to drive you to him.” She put her head in her hands, trying to calm herself down as Nancy rubbed her back in confusion. 

“I mean… yeah. You’re my _best friend_ , Barb.” 

Barb’s smile looked more like a grimace, but her emotion was there, Nancy was still her best friend. She still loved her in that way, but it wasn’t enough for Barb. She was a teenage girl, a greedy teenage girl, and she needed more than that. But she was silent. 

“So…? Do you want?” Nancy flicked her fingers under Barb’s eyes, trying to wipe away the tears, and settled never to Barb like a wind alighting on a path. 

“No, I don’t want, Nancy!” Barb slammed her hand down on the plush bed, and Nancy jumped. “I’m _tired_ of it! I’m _sick_ of you treating me like your boyfriend and then talking to me like your best friend! I don’t like that shit! I don’t want to be the fucking replacement Steve! I want to be what you want, but not what you just… use when you need a release. _I want to be with you, Nance_. I love you, but I need you to love me back.”

Nancy frowned, shaken by her friend’s tirade. “Barb, you know I love you. We’re best frie—”

“THAT’S NOT ENOUGH!” Barb yelled, tears back in her eyes. “That’s not enough, Nancy. You can’t just come to my house and gush about Steve. And then stick your tongue down my throat and call it good. I’m tired of hearing about Steve. I’m tired of taking you places where people don’t like me. But I’ll never get tired of you. But I don’t want to be your fucking _secret_ anymore! I don’t want to be the thing that makes you feel special because no one knows you’re fooling around with a girl! You treat this like it’s a game. You think it’s fun to play around with stupid old Barb’s feelings. Well I don’t know your damn rules! I don’t know what’s off limits! I can’t play your little game unless I know how, and you don’t communicate, Nancy.”

She stopped at the sound of a sob from the small brunette, and looked up from the spot on the floor she’d been directing her entire attention towards. Nancy was, indeed, crying- she was trying her best to stay quiet, a hand over her mouth, but she looked absolutely horrified. Barb worried she might have been too harsh, but Nancy opened her mouth and uttered a small but powerful, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t _know_ what I want, Barb. I don’t know what the rules are either. No one’s ever told me. I love Steve. I do. He’s everything to me. But I love you, too, but I’m sorry, it’s not… it’s not like that. You make me feel good. I know that. But I don’t know anything other than what we have now. Oh god, Barb, I just-” she broke down again, throwing her arms around her friend, her tears staining a spot in Barb’s shoulderpad. 

They sat there like that for a time, both crying their tears and saying their parts, petting each other’s hair and repeating over and over that they loved the other girl. They both quieted down after around ten minutes, before lying the wrong way across the bed. Nancy checked her watch.

“Six thirty.”

“Yep.”

“You okay to go?”

“Yup.”

Nancy sat up. “Okay.”

“Cool.” Barb grabbed her keys, and walked stiffly out the door, shouting to her mom that they were going to the rally for the Byers kid at school before letting Nancy in the passenger seat and sitting numbly inside. 

\--

“Barbara, pull over.”

Barb blinked. This wasn’t Steve’s house. “What?”

“Pull _over_!” 

Barb complied. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.” 

“We can't park in the driveway.”

“Are you serious?” Even the redhead, uninterested in appearance as she was, knew that walking in the cold wasn’t good for your skin.

Nancy looked at her incredulously. “Yeah, the neighbors might see.” 

“This is so stupid,” Barb moaned, “I'm just gonna drop you off.” 

“Calm down, Barb. Come on.” Nancy pulled at her friend’s arm. “You promised that you'd go! You're coming. We're gonna have a great time!” 

“He just wants to get in your pants,” Barb said bitterly, meaning it with all her heart but knowing it wasn’t exactly true.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “No, he doesn't.” 

“Nance, seriously.” Barb listed the points on her fingers. “He invited you to his house. His parents aren't home. Come on, you are not this stupid!” 

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there,” Nancy protested. 

Ah, yes. The bunch. “Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade. It'll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I'm serious!” 

Nancy half-smiled, half-grimaced, and hit the dashboard softly with her palm. “All right, well you can be, like, my _guardian_. All right? Make sure I don't get drunk and... do anything stupid.” 

Nancy began jimmying her peasant-style blouse off, exchanging it for another one, and revealed...

“Ugh. Is that a new bra?”

“No.” Barb chewed her lip and raised an eyebrow. She was unconvinced.

“Barb, chill.” 

“I'm chill!” Barb raised her hands in defeat, opening the car. 

They walked up the street in relative silence, still tense from their discussion and the unknown and almost subconscious heaviness of what was about to happen. And then, suddenly, there he was. In all his pompadoured, sleazy glory. 

Steve Harrington smirked from the doorway, inside of his house glowing like a beacon of light. The two girls looked up, blinking at the brightness. 

“Hello, ladies.” 

\--

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy’s voice drifted through Barb’s consciousness, and she looked up to see Steve wiping his mouth of beer foam and Nancy looking on with feigned disinterest, 

“You're _not_?” He grinned toothily, winking at her and running a hand through his hair. 

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?” Nancy laughed easily, throwing her head back and showing her teeth as she smiled.

Steve smiled semi-vacantly, the alcohol already slightly setting in. _Wow_ , Barb mused, _who knew Steve Harrington was such a lightweight?_ “You are a cliche. What with your your grades and your band practice.” 

“I'm so not in band.” 

He snorted. “Okay, party girl. Why don't you just, uh, show us how it's done, then?” He caught Tommy’s eye, and smiled, as if to say, _‘now isn’t this what we said would happen?’_ Barb shivered. She believed Steve was genuinely a good guy, but Tommy H… 

Nancy perked up, her eyes bright. “Okay.” _‘No!_ ’ Barb thought, but stayed motionless. _‘No, no, no!_ ’

Steve leaned over Nancy, leaning in close on- what clearly was- purpose. He wrapped his hand around hers. “You gotta make a little hole right in—”

“I got it.” Barb almost snorted—Nancy never liked being taught or talked down to. 

Tommy chimed in with a “Yeah, she's smart, you douche!” He was _clearly_ not in great shape. He was slurring his words slightly, arm thrown around Carol, petite, pretty little Carol, in a way that clearly she didn’t like too much. Barb felt a twinge in her stomach, pity, but then she remembered all the times Carol had called her a fatty and a gutterdyke, and turned away. 

“Chug, chug, chug. Chug. Chug. Chug.” The cries grew louder and more macho as Nancy threw her head back again, hair cascading in a sheet, and she gulped the beer down. 

Nancy was breathless, and reveling in her victory, but she looked over at Barb in her fetal position in the lawn chair. 

“Barb, you wanna try?” 

_That_ was a shocker. “What? No. No, I don't want to. Thanks.”

“Come on.”

“Yeah!” Carol. That fucking _sheep_ of a girl.

“Come on. Yeah!” Tommy. That damn creep. 

“Nance, I don't want to.” She looked around nervously, her cool demeanor cracked once again. 

“It's fun! Just give it a—” 

“Nance.” Her voice was firm and low, and Barb felt the mood go down. _Good,_ she thought selfishly, _serves them right for dragging me here._

“Just—Just give it a shot.” 

Barb surrendered, knowing well she wouldn’t escape this time. “Okay.” She took the scissors. “So you just—” Her hand was shaking, and inevitably, it slipped. Her hand was flashing with red blood. 

“Gnarly.” Steve walked over, looking on in sick approval.

“Are you okay?” Nancy’s brown eyes were filled with worry, and Barb felt the familiar twinge in her chest. 

“Yeah.”

“Barb, you're bleeding.” Nancy smirked at her, incredulous at Barb’s nonchalance. 

“I'm fine.” She looked at Steve, all business. “Where's your bathroom?” 

“Oh, it's. It's, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” Barb turned on her heel, walking swiftly to the bathroom with tears in her eyes. She’d take care of herself, as she always had. 

\--

“Nance! Nancy. Barb finished fiddling with her bandage and pushed out of the Harrington’s bathroom into their pristine stairwell, looking around nervously, when she saw Nancy, sopping wet and shivering. She narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere. Just upstairs.”She thought for a moment, before adding, “To change.” And then, “I fell in the pool.”

“Uh… huh.”

Steve watched, disinterested, throughout the exchange, and Nancy noticed. She attempted to hurry it along, saying, “why don't you go ahead and go home.” Barb opened her mouth, but Nancy cut her off with the excuse of “I'll just—I'll get a ride, or something.”

No. Absolutely not. Nancy was clearly going to hook up with Steve, and Barb’s ego could not taking being brushed off for some guy. “Nance—” 

“Barb. I'm _fine_.” Nancy was already turning away, and Barb grabbed her shoulder. 

“This isn't you.” 

The words struck Nancy to her core. Barb’s eyes were earnest, and Nancy could tell. She knew Barb cared, but she hated, absolutely _hated_ , being told who she was when she didn’t even know herself. She steeled herself. “I'm fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?” Barb’s eyes dropped, and she nodded. “Thanks.”

Nancy headed upstairs, giggling with Steve as she pulled her towel tighter, completely forgetting about Barb.

The redhead sighed, put her hands in her pockets, and headed outside. If she wasn’t welcome inside his house, she sure as hell wasn’t gonna leave, only for Nancy’s sake, but she wasn’t gonna stay, either. She walked around the pool, regarding it closely. It was a nice pool. Steve had a nice house. A beautiful house. A beautiful girlfriend. A beautiful everything. She suddenly felt that familiar rage begin to churn in her stomach, and she kicked a tiny pebble into the pool. _Take that, stick it to the man,_ she thought drily. 

Barb looked around quickly, making sure she couldn’t see anyone watching her, despite the creeping feeling on the back of her neck that someone was… in the woods. Watching her. She looked around wildly, before not seeing anything, and sliding gingerly onto the diving board. 

She stared into the water, a strange sense of finality settling over her. This was the end, she supposed, in a way. Nance and Steve were gonna have sex. By any stupid person’s standards, that was it. The end. Marriage for teenagers. She felt envy flare up again, jealous of the fact Steve would be Nancy’s first, and even angrier she knew it would be good. She wanted it to go terribly, for Steve to somehow die—but that would hurt Nancy. So maybe not. 

She gave up the train of thought, swinging her legs back and forth. It really was a beautiful pool. Perfect actually. Perfect, pristine, preppy Steve Harrington, with his sweaters and polo shirts and khakis. 

_Plop_.

A drop of blood fell into the crystal clear water. Barb winced. She’d been squeezing too hard on her hand in her tension, and the flow of blood had started again. She made a move to stand up, ready to just fall asleep in a lawn chair like she’d attempted before, but she heard the giggles float down from The Harrington’s second story window. Nancy. She felt suddenly rooted to the spot, and the feeling only intensified when the pool light went completely out. It flickered slowly, in and out of power, before shutting off. 

Barb felt terror grip her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t do anything, when—

A hand around her ankle. No, not a hand. A claw. A gnarled, scaly claw. She shrieked, but the being knocked the wind out of her, knocking her backwards so hard she almost blacked out.

She come to in a strange, dank place, at the bottom of the pool; except the entire pool was filled with vines the consistency of snake tails, and she didn’t feel safe anymore. She was filled with a complete and utter panic, her feet slipping out from under her and she scrambled for the side ladder. 

The same claw grabbed her ankle, pulling her back down. She tried with all her might to hold on, groaning and screaming for help, for Tommy H, for Carol, for Steve, for her dad, but no response. Slowly, her hands blistered and gave out, her fingers beginning to slip and let go of the bars involuntarily. She cheeks were slick with tears of pain and complete and utter horror. 

She let her pain and suffering consume her. After all, was a life worth living without love? Was it truly a thing of beauty without a person beside you to appreciate it with you? Barb didn’t think so. She loved Nancy with everything in of her heart, body, and soul. She needed her like air and food and water.

And so with everything in her, heart, body, and soul, Barbara Holland let go.


End file.
